


Claim My Love (It Has Always Been Yours)

by Bennyhatter



Series: Feral [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha Shiro (Voltron), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Animalistic, Biting, Bottom Keith (Voltron), Claiming Bites, Cuddling & Snuggling, Feral Behavior, First Time, Grooming, Keith (Voltron) Has a Praise Kink, M/M, Pack Bonding, Pack Dynamics, Passion, Platonic Relationships, Praise Kink, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Top Shiro (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 11:10:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18548578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bennyhatter/pseuds/Bennyhatter
Summary: “Will you be good for me, Keith?”Those seven words shouldn't affect him nearly as badly as they have, but spoken in Shiro's low rumble, Keith never stood a chance. Breathed against the nape almost three vargas ago, against Shiro's mark, they'd hit him like a bolt of electricity. They've been burning through him ever since, his skin warm with his flush and his lips sore from chewing at them.





	Claim My Love (It Has Always Been Yours)

**Author's Note:**

> I FINALLY DID THE THING PHEW.
> 
> Guys I love this show so much even though it destroys me. Iunno, I guess I'm just a masochist.
> 
> Thank you so, so, SO MUCH to everyong who has read/liked/commented/left kudos/etc. on this insane ride. Thank you all over again for joining me! I know that sounds like this is The End, but honestly? It's probably not. I have more ideas wheeee.
> 
> Is there anything anyone wants to see? Some kind of group bonding/what have you amongst these adorable beans? I'm not opposed to prompts.
> 
> ANYWAY.
> 
> ENJOY~

_“Will you be good for me, Keith?”_

 

Those seven words shouldn't affect him nearly as badly as they have, but spoken in Shiro's low rumble, Keith never stood a chance. Breathed against the nape almost three vargas ago, against Shiro's mark, they’d hit him like a bolt of electricity. They've been burning through him ever since, his skin warm with his flush and his lips sore from chewing at them.

 

Keith whines quietly to himself, sensing a faint pulse from Red that feels like sympathy. His Lion tries to help him share the burden of his growing need, but there's only so much she can do when she's in the hangar bay with _Shiro's_ Lion. They don't feel things the same way as their Paladins, but Keith knows that they try. It's part of what makes the bond between all of them so strong.

 

A hand touches his arm, too small and too light to be what he _wants_ , but he still gives Pidge a nuzzle. She nuzzles back, purring quietly, and he lets his friend's comforting presence curl around him like a warm blanket.

 

“I'm alright,” he mutters against her hair, huffing when the green Paladin snorts against his shoulder.

 

“I have eyes, Keith.” Her mocking tone gentles, her fingers running up and down his arms to give him something to focus on. “How's it going?”

 

“Like shit,” Keith bites out, frustrated with himself. Pidge churrs, pulling him away from his self-deprecation until he's meeting her honey-gold eyes again.

 

“He'll be back, Keith,” she says gently, pulling him away from Shiro's doorway. Keith jolts in surprise when he realizes exactly where they are; he hadn't meant to come here. He's been so lost in his head since Shiro and Lance went on their mission, with nothing but his friend's last question repeating over and over again until Keith can't tell if he wants to scream or claw out of himself.

 

“I know.” His jaw aches -- he's been clenching his teeth again. Sighing shakily, he shakes himself out, like that'll be enough to get rid of the tension coiling beneath the surface. Growling, he snaps his teeth at empty air.

 

“He did this on purpose.”

 

“Took you this long to figure that out?” Pidge asks sardonically, giving him a crooked grin. “Shiro is a great leader, and a great friend, but he's also a commanding officer. And a tease.”

 

Keith groans and rubs his face roughly. “I'm not having this conversation with you,” he tells her firmly, narrowing his eyes when Pidge's grin splits her face.

 

“Would you have it with Hunk?”

 

“I hate you all,” he hisses with feeling, but when Pidge laughs he can't help but relax and grin back at her, feeling better.

 

_Are you gonna be good for me?_

 

Fuck. He tenses, trying not to shudder, and flinches away when Pidge strokes his wrist. She looks worried and sympathetic, mirroring Red's concern in a tangible way. Keith whines and curls over his friend, shoving his face into the crook of her neck.

 

“He is a fucking tease,” he admits, growling against the collar of her favorite jacket. “He knew what he was doing.”

 

“Of course he did; he's Shiro.” Pidge hugs him, rubbing soothing circles up and down the tense line of his spine. “He'll be back soon, Keith. Come on, it's almost lunch, and we know you didn't eat breakfast. Hunk's just going to track you down himself if you don't show up.”

 

“His intense need to feed people is frightening,” Keith mutters, but it's really not. They all have their quirks, their own little nuances and facets that make up who they are. At the end of the day, the jagged and oddly-shaped pieces all fit together into one cohesive piece, something seamless that is _home_ for all of them in the same way that Shiro is home for Keith.

 

“Maybe, but at least we never go hungry,” Pidge muses. She's still leading him, her fingers anchoring around his wrist rather than restrictive. Before the Lions, before everything, Keith would have wrenched himself away and growled to make her keep her distance. He would have chased her away, teeth bared, and snarled to make sure she stayed gone.

 

Keith isn't that untamed stray anymore, and realizing that is still surreal to him when he thinks how far they've all come since Earth and the Garrison; since Keith lost Shiro that first time, and picked up a disjointed pack of pups when his best friend crash-landed back in his life.

 

“This isn't the way to the dining hall,” he notices belatedly, realizing that they're going in the opposite direction all-together.

 

“Nope,” Pidge agrees. “We're going to the den.”

 

It hits Keith like warmth behind his breastbone, unfurling like a fern that melts a little more of his tension away. The den was just an empty room that they turned into a lounge room. After the last vicious battle, when everything slid into place with all of them like _acceptance_ , Keith noticed how the lounge started to change. Pillows, blankets; the furniture leaving piece by piece until all that was left was the holoscreen and its control panel.

 

Now, the lounge is more like the den they call it, all of them spending what little downtime they can there with each other. For Keith and Shiro, grooming and contact is nothing new, but the rest of them needed a place to be comfortable while they learned how they fit in together.

 

The first time Keith licked Lance's face, he thought the blue Paladin was going to throw himself out the airlock. It was hilarious and sad, a different flavor of rejection that had him backing off until the younger man got his footing and dragged Keith back. It isn't always easy with them, but it's gotten a lot better.

 

It's made their bonds stronger, has made them better Paladins. Voltron has never been easier to maneuver, even if they're still learning new things about the weapon they pilot every movement.

 

Hunk is waiting for them, bowls and plates of steaming alien food waiting on the piled mess of blankets and pillows that cover the floor of the den. It's more than three people should be able to eat, even if they do burn a tremendous amount of energy with their Lions, but Allura and Coran join them not long after Keith and Pidge settle in.

 

“I hope you don't mind,” the Princess says shyly, smiling as she tucks her legs underneath a thick blanket. “Hunk invited us. I know this is your space.”

 

Keith blinks. “It's your ship,” he replies, frowning.

 

Allura shakes her head. “Your rooms are all yours, and we respect that privacy. It would be rude to assume we have the right to enter a space that isn't ours.”

 

“But this was just an empty room,” Keith argues.

 

“Yes, but now it's not,” Coran replies easily, winking at Keith when he looks at the other Altean. “You Paladins have made it into your own space. I must say, your predecessors never bonded the way you five have. Is this an Earth custom?”

 

They've been asked something similar before, but Keith never knew how to answer the question. He still doesn't, if he's being honest. He snags a piece of food to give him time to think, moaning in surprised delight when he tastes whatever it is. Hunk is beaming, his bulk a warm support that Keith leans against with hardly any hesitation.

 

“There were… cultures, on Earth,” Pidge says slowly, frowning thoughtfully. “Groups of people who seemed more in touch with their animal hindbrain than others. I think they called them Primals?” She looks at Keith and Hunk, but he's never heard anything like it before. Hunk's hum is a soothing vibration where he's curled against the yellow Paladin.

 

“I think I've heard of something like that?” He doesn't sound sure. “I mean, I heard about Furries, but I'd never heard of Primals.”

 

“Furries?” Allura asks, eager and curious. Keith chokes on his food, pounding a fist against his chest to clear his airway and wheezing once he does. Hunk rubs his back, whining softly.

 

“Nope,” Keith gasps, rubbing at his watering eyes. “Not going there. Besides, I don't recall any of you running around dressed up like cats.”

 

“That's why I didn't mention them.” Pidge looks mildly irritated when she pushes her glasses back up her nose, but it's a fleeting expression. “Primals are humans who are just a little more animalistic than others,” she explains when she sees Allura's growing confusion. “They look like other people, but they don't react to things like most. It's like putting an animal's quintessence in a human body, essentially.”

 

Allura looks at him curiously, but Keith doesn't curl his shoulders like he used to. The defensiveness isn't nearly as bad as it used to be. “So you are one of these Primals?” she asks, sounding fascinated. “Could it be because you are part Galra? Are human Primals actually hybrids of different species?”

 

Pidge hums. “I mean, it's possible,” she muses. “But Shiro is Primal too, and he's entirely human. I think, for the rest of us, it's a combination of our Lions’ presences and our connections through them. I know _I_ never showed any Primal traits until Voltron.”

 

“Marvellous!” Coran claps, looking starstruck. “Could we run tests to tell for sure? If there is _something_ , it would certainly show on _some_ reading.”

 

“But we've all been scanned before.” Pidge leans against Keith's back, smelling like her favorite soap and something citrusy. It makes him think _interest_ and _eager_. “Nothing ever shows up.”

 

“Well, yes,” the engineer agrees, but there's still a twinkle in his eyes that puts Keith's hackles up. “But a more specific scan might be able to show-”

 

“I'm not a science experiment!” Keith snarls. The ensuing silence is shocked, all of them turning to look at him. Biting his lip, he hunches his shoulders and presses harder against Hunk until the Paladin hugs him and rubs the side of his neck.

 

“Keith…” Allura's surprise softens to guilt. “Of course you aren't,” she agrees gently. “I'm sure they didn't mean it to come off that way.” She turns a firmer eye on Coran, who wilts beneath her baleful stare.

 

“No, no, of course not,” he hastens to reassure. “I'm sorry, Keith. I never meant to insinuate that you were. My curiosity simply got the better of me, my young friend.”

 

Pidge cups his cheeks and kisses his forehead, churring until Keith relaxes enough to press his face against her neck. “Dad always taught me to hide,” he murmurs, still feeling vulnerable and on-edge. Without Shiro's calming presence, it's harder to keep his emotions reigned in. “He thought… He didn't know what would happen if anyone ever realized-”

 

Growing up, Keith had always thought his father preferred the solitude of their home in the middle of nowhere. He'd been a feral child, a handful that drove the man out of his mind trying to keep him as human as possible. Now that he knows better about his own biology, he realizes just how much the elder Kogane sacrificed to make sure his son would never become a subject in a laboratory.

 

“You don't have to hide here,” Pidge says, firm and gentle. She scratches behind his ear, nothing mocking about the way she smiles at him while she does it. Keith presses into the contact, humming from how nice it feels and letting his eyes drift closed.

 

“I know,” he sighs, accepting the bite of food Hunk offers without ever opening his eyes. He smells when Allura and Coran come closer, their scents unique compared to the others; sweet flowers and oils, musk and spice and something sharply alien. It's pleasant, something he's come to associate with _friend_ and _safety_.

 

“Your Galra heritage makes you unique,” Allura says, her hand grounding when it squeezes his shoulder. “But _you_ are what makes you incredible, Keith. We would never try to change or alter that.”

 

“Besides,” Pidge adds, sounding playful. “You make a terrible cat.” When Keith opens an eye to glare at her, she grins shamelessly. “You're way more like a wolf, anyway. Pack mentality and all.” She taps his temple as if to justify her words, and he snorts, nipping playfully at her finger.

 

“Are we gonna eat, or are we gonna keep talking science?” he grumbles, ready to get back to the easy comfort of before. He can smell their combined amusement, a cocktail that should be overwhelming but only helps to settle the last of his ire. Pushing himself up, he reaches for another handful of whatever-it-is, tearing into the soft, sweet flesh with gusto while the others follow his lead.

 

\---

 

Hot kisses against his nape make Keith whine, arching to bare more of himself to the strong, broad body curled over him. He can feel the press of metal fingers at his hip, gripping tightly enough to promise bruises. Sleep evaporates like the desert heat after sunset, leaving him with wide-eyed clarity that spirals into passion when Shiro bites his shoulder with teeth that are just slightly sharper than a human's should be.

 

“Shiro,” he keens, turning his head and moaning when the black Paladin licks his mouth. Keith licks back, their tongues dragging over each other's; it should be disgusting, but it makes Keith _burn_.

 

“Were you good for me?” Shiro whispers, his words rumbling like an oncoming storm. He's shirtless, the tight leggings of his bodysuit doing nothing to hide his interest at finding Keith curled up in his bed in nothing but loose sleep shorts. When Keith tries to roll over, the Galra arm keeps him in place easily.

 

“Yes, Shiro,” he gasps, squirming and feeling like a gangly pup. He's desperate for friction, for _more_. They've shared a bed and kisses, they've groomed and petted, but never went farther than the _more_ Keith is burning for now -- has been burning for since Shiro pinned him in place with dark eyes and asked if Keith could be good for him while he was gone.

 

“Breathe, kit,” Shiro purrs into his mouth, the endearment making Keith shudder and mewl. He growls when the man starts to pull away, dragging him back and sliding their mouths together for a kiss that is more teeth and tongue and passion than anything else. He swallows Shiro's answering growl and arches against the body that climbs over him, feeling the liquid grace in those muscles without ever having to look.

 

The Galra hand is cool against his bare chest, pinning him against the mattress so Shiro can look down at him in the blue glow of the night panels. He looks predatory and inhuman, his eyes black with desire and his teeth just visible behind relaxed, parted lips. He reminds Keith of a panther, something beautiful and sinuous and deadly. He's grace and violence so beautifully balanced, muscles shivering beneath his skin with what Keith knows is anticipation.

 

He's always known that Shiro is willing to play the long game to get what he wants. He'll stalk his prey for deca-phoebs, biding his time before striking at just the right tic. If anyone else prowled around Keith the way he's let Shiro, they'd have been chased off with strips missing from their hide.

 

Keith is not prey.

 

Shiro doesn't make him feel like prey though. He doesn't make Keith feel weak, or lesser. They're two predators circling one another, each playing his own game, and it's led them here just like it was always meant to -- long before they ever knew it.

 

The air is cool, but Keith doesn't shiver when strong fingers drag his shorts down. He watches Shiro peel out of his leggings, his cock thick and filling the air with a virile, musky scent that punches Keith low in the belly.

 

“Come here,” he growls raggedy, and Shiro slips between his spread legs like its where he's always belonged. His broad hands curl around Keith's thighs, dragging him closer and spreading them. He lifts Keith like he weighs nothing, shocking the air from his throat and leaving desire thick and anxious on his tongue.

 

“Fuck, Shiro, _please_ -”

 

Keith's mouth snaps shut when Shiro ducks his head and licks his cock from base to tip, tonguing at his leaking slit before licking back down again. Keith spasms like he's been shot, electricity arcing through his rippling muscles. He _whines,_ grabbing at the longer hair on Shiro's head and scratching across his undercut, his thighs tightening until Shiro's Galra fingers squeeze in warning.

 

“Behave,” he rumbles directly against the base of Keith's dick, his teeth scraping so, so gently, and Keith cums with a bitten-back howl. He hadn't even realized he was so close to the edge, so wound up and eager, but Shiro knows him better than anyone. He knows exactly what to say and how to touch to calm Keith down or get him to where Shiro wants him to be.

 

“So good for me, kit,” the Paladin whispers against his oversensitive skin, licking and sucking while Keith shakes. It keeps going until he's whining and trying to get away, the pleasure-pain of it too much; Shiro keeps him exactly where he is until Keith chokes on the reignited pleasure, grinding against the man's face and begging wordlessly for more, or less, he _doesn't know._

 

Shiro does know, though. He always knows. When he shifts his hold, Keith is almost delirious with relief, but it's only so Shiro can hold him up with his Galra arm and press two slick fingers past his relaxed, trembling entrance.

 

 _“Shi-!”_ Keith drags the blanket closer and shoves it in his mouth to muffle his sounds, moaning into the fabric and sucking for the comfort it brings. It sends his fraying mind into overdrive, makes him think of Shiro sitting at his station on the bridge or relaxing in the den, his legs open for Keith to nestle in and just kneel there with the man's cock in his mouth; holding it, maybe suckling, and it's never a thought he's had before but it _destroys_ him now. The thought of being good for Shiro, being taken care of, because no one has ever been as good to him as the man growling praise against his femoral artery, two fingers twisting and curling leisurely inside of Keith like it's not fucking devastating.

 

“You're so good for me, kit, _fuck._ Look at you, taking me so well. I can feel it, Keith. What were you doing before you went to sleep, hmm? Did you need me that badly?”

 

“Always,” Keith whines past gritted teeth, his eyes burning and his fingers digging into Shiro's broad, thick shoulders. “I _always_ need you, you fucking asshole. You know what you do to me.”

 

Shiro's eyes devour him, reflecting Keith's desperation back in a loop that makes him jolt. Every touch sears like lightning, the press of three curling fingers making him _quake_ like he'll shatter, but Shiro holds him steady; that unshakeable foundation that Keith needs like oxygen. He knows that Shiro cares about him, that he's fought tooth and nail with trust and gentle, steadying words to get where he has, but the love staring back at him is a roaring hurricane swirling through Shiro's eyes. It's a raging storm that's finally been unleashed, and Keith walks into it with outstretched hands and bruised, pleading lips.

 

“Shiro, please.”

 

The leader of Voltron rises over him like a wave, muscles rolling and hands almost violent in their need to crush Keith close and never let him go. If he lets go, they'll both drown, so Keith digs his nails in and licks under Shiro's jaw, whining in deference to the only Alpha who has ever won and kept his loyalty. They come together like the crash of waves, like the meeting of fire and lightning; an explosion that whites out the world around them until all they know is heaving chests and sweat-slick skin. All he hears is Shiro's thunder and his own burning cries, smeared across scarred flesh to leave his own mark behind.

 

Shiro is impossibly hot inside of him. Keith has never felt anything like it, each drag and twitch coiling him tighter until not even Shiro can keep him from shattering -- not when it's his deep, well-placed thrust that blows through the cracks. He keeps going, snarling his devotion against Keith's raw, bitten flesh.

 

“You're perfect for me, kit; so _fucking_ good for me, I love you so much-”

 

Keith bares his throat, pleasure a thick, sweet crawl through his veins. “Shiro,” he breathes, fingers curled to paw the man's head down and hold him at his jugular. Shiro licks the sweat away and nuzzles, waiting _. “Alpha,”_ Keith whines, and Shiro's pleased growl shakes the bed, his teeth sharp and painful but _so fucking good_ when he bites down. His hips snap forward, his rhythm falling to pieces; humanity giving way to the feralness they've found in each other. It feels more real than anything else, each brutal thrust quick and eager as they chase their pleasure.

 

When Shiro licks into his mouth, Keith tastes his own blood and rumbles happily, lapping it up like nectar and licking Shiro clean. He nuzzles up under the man's jaw again, grazing just under his ear with sharp teeth. When his Alpha turns his head and presses the tendon into Keith's teeth, rocking more than thrusting so that they never separate, Keith bites.

 

 _Mate,_ his instincts purr.

 

When he cums, Shiro is silent, but he's far from still. His human and Galra arm wrap around Keith to keep him close; haul him upright for the black Paladin's last few harsh, sloppy thrusts. Keith licks the bleeding mark he's left, letting his head be turned so Shiro can lick the taste from his mouth this time and clean him up with long, rough strokes of his tongue. They shudder through the rolling aftershocks together, muscles twitching and mouths seeking more from each other. Keith is straddling Shiro's flexing thighs, rocking against him until he has to stop and feeling the wetness drip between them. He shudders, so fucking pleased that he can't stop mewling until Shiro drinks down the sound and feeds Keith a rumble that finally settles him.

 

Thick fingers drag through his sweaty, tangled hair, scratching against his scalp and coaxing him closer -- as if he'd ever want to be anywhere else. Keith curls against Shiro's chest, breathing in their mingling scents and closing his eyes.

 

“Keith,” Shiro sighs, his name a rumble full of content.

 

“Shiro,” he purrs, and they can fit so much into those two words that there's no need to say anything else, but Keith wants to anyway.

 

“I love you.” Quiet, but bold and unafraid. It's an offer and a promise, and Shiro kisses his temple sweetly.

 

“I love you, kit. Thank you for being so good for me.”

 

Keith hums. In the back of his mind, Red pulses.


End file.
